I do not own the characters or any other facet of Ouran High School Host Club. They are the sole property of Bisco Hatori.
This is a one shot story that was inspired by a song I recently heard. I was excited because I've had a massive case of writers block lately and this story seemed to flow pretty easily for me. Hoping this will help me to get back into the swing of updating my other stories regularly. Thank you for reading!
My Truth
The tall youth sat alone in the dark at the edge of his bed, truly at the end of his sanity.
Why did he answer the phone? Why did he answer her call? He had known as soon as her number had flashed upon his phone that nothing good could come of their conversation.
And yet he had picked up.
The evening had begun the same as every other he could manage to recall. After a long day of teaching at the university he returned home to his one bedroom apartment to spend the evening as he always did, alone. After graduating from Ouran, Mori had attended college not truly knowing what he wished to do with his life or what his true calling was. His father had offered him a lucrative position with his company but Morinozuka Takashi was bound and determined to make it on his own.
He found direction his sophomore year at University when he took an introduction to philosophy and world religion. The mystery and the serenity that many of the religions portrayed appealed to him. People often mistook him for being cold, calloused and removed. There was some truth to that, he did not allow himself to become close to others, he did not have the desire to but he was also just a reserved person.
He worked diligently through college, absorbing as much information as he could about each religion including the ancient and dead religions of Greece and Rome. He left little time for social interaction save for his cousin Honey-senpai and of course... her.
After graduation he spent three months abroad in Europe and portions of the middle East, the trip had been a gift from his parents. A reward for his achievements though Mori interpreted it more as a bribe from his father to join his fathers company. Upon his return he informed them of his decision to teach, he formally refused his fathers generous offer and from that day forward had renounced all of his family's wealth though he remained on relatively good terms with his parents.
Work at the University seemed to agree with him though he was occasionally disenchanted with some of the students that enrolled in his course. He was aware that women found him moderately attractive and that seemed to be the driving factor behind some of his students choices to take the course instead of the desire to learn and broaden their understanding of the world's vast religious practices.
Mori was aware of the rumors that were murmured of him in hushed tones in the hallways of the University where he taught. His female students all tried their best to hold his attention, once they realized their attempts were futile they would begin to whisper...
"Yeah, he's hot but I've heard he's got some creepy obsession with his cousin. I don't even think he's interested in women"
'Let them talk' he always thought to himself, 'Let them think what they will and leave me be. I know my truth.'
This evening he had returned to his one bedroom apartment, the comforts of his former life all but gone. His apartment was scarcely furnished save for his bed and the couch he kept in the front room. After removing his shoes and setting down his bag and laptop he moved towards his fridge. A moment later he let the refrigerator door close. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten a proper meal. It was rare these days that he even ate at all.
Moving to his bedroom he removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt letting it fall and pool around his feet on the floor. He was preparing to shower when the chime of his cell phone sounded, his hand fished around in his pocket before finally locating it and bringing it up to eye level to see who it was.
His breath caught in his throat as his eyes scanned across those familiar numbers. Mori knew he shouldn't have known them as well as he did, she rarely sought him out and yet he knew them as well as his own. He could not begin to count the amount of times he had stared at her phone number debating whether or not he should call her and share with her the depths of his feelings.
Mori pressed the button to receive the call and held the phone to his ear,
"Hello" he said, his cool voice did not reveal the unease that was spreading through his body. His heart was beating so harshly he could hear the blood pounding in his ears.
He heard the woman on the other end take a deep breath, then she said "Hello, Takashi. How are you?"
The man closed his eyes, allowing her voice to wash over him. A slight shiver went through him when she said his name, his given name. The name she had whispered over and over again that night three years ago. The night that the two of them never discussed, the night he first had her.
He opened his eyes once again, "I'm well. How is Tamaki?" he asked.
Mori heard her sharp intake of breath and he could nearly see her wince over the line. He felt guilty for that, he knew he should have asked how she was but he couldn't bring himself to. He was aware that she was well, doing far better than he could ever hope to.
'She can function, she no longer thinks of you... she never truly did' his conscience whispered to him.
"He's fine, it's funny you should ask that's actually why I was calling." She paused before continuing. "He's asked me to marry him Takashi!"
The man was unsure of what reaction she may have been searching for, what she had anticipated him to do. Was he the first of her friends that she was breaking this news to or the last? He was certain he was the first, if Mitskuni had heard of this before him he surely would have called. Knowing Mitskuni he would have caused a commotion about the news for he was the only one who truly knew the depth of the feelings that Mori harbored for this woman. All he could manage was a hushed reaction, he did not know what he could say and he did not wish to reveal anything.
If she had taken note of his silence she did not mention it. Instead she continued prattling on happily giving him details he would rather not know.
"The ring he gave me is beautiful and we're going to have the ceremony in Paris. I'm very excited, I hope you and Honey-kun can make it. The ceremony will be held in the spring, in April. I know it seems soon but you know how Tamaki gets when he's excited."
His heart clenched in his chest when she revealed the date. April 8th, Tamaki's birthday and the anniversary of the night that they dared not speak of. Either she had truly forgotten about the incident or she was trying to forget it. It made no matter because it hurt all the same.
He heard her let go of a nervous giggle and silence followed. Finally she asked, "Takashi, why don't you say something?"
Mori cleared his throat and said "Goodbye Haruhi."
"Please don't do this." She said, her tone rushed and her voice tight with emotion.
For a moment he almost obliged but he hardened his resolve and hung up.
Mori let the phone fall from his hands all of his strength seemed to leave his body. He let his head fall into his hands, clenching his eyes shut as he fought off the memories that he so regularly kept at bay. The familiar scent of cherry blossoms that always seemed to cling to her, the memory of her sweet smile, the softness of her skin when his large hands had explored her for the first time and the way her body had yielded to his so readily.
He bit his lip harshly drawing blood and he welcomed the pain. He needed to feel it, needed it to banish these memories and the ghost of what could have been. The fallacious relationship that he had allowed himself to believe.
Haruhi had been his once.
Mori knew the only reason that Haruhi had fallen so willingly into his arms that night was because she had been devastated over Tamaki. The blonde had all but dismissed Haruhi when his grandmother had become so distressed after she had been dismissed as the head of the family.
Even then, Mori had loved Haruhi for quite some time. Looking back now he presumed that his feelings for her had begun to develop shortly after the discovery that she was a girl albeit the development was slow.
But that night she had come to him. He had never known why, he never bothered to ask. She sat next to him on the very couch that still occupied the space in his living room. It was the first night he truly saw her cry, the first time he had ever seen her show an emotion that wasn't rooted in anger.
Mori had reached out to her slowly and laid his large hand against her small back. He did not move his hand all he did was allow the warmth of her body to seep into his hand and he could feel the sobs racking through her body. His heart broke for her but he didn't know what to do. He could not force Tamaki's hand in anything the man's decisions were his own.
After some time Haruhi had lifted her head from her hands and then wrapped her arms around his sturdy neck. From there she had full control of the situation and total control of his heart. Mori had not influenced her one way or the other. He allowed himself to indulge in what she was willing to give him and now he wished he never had because now he yearned for more.
The man spent hours in the same position before finally moving. In his own home he was able to let the stoic mask he wore daily to slip. While in the shower he allowed a few tears to fall, he allowed himself to mourn the relationship that never truly was.
Mori never did receive an invitation to the ceremony but that served him just as well. He had no wish to hear the wedding bells bloom in the afternoon sun because for him they would not sound like the happy peel of bells. To him the wedding march would sound sound more like the hymns of a funeral.